the dress was bought and made, and
worn at wedding and _in-fair_ and in a round of family visits among the
Barringer and Golyer kin, and carefully laid away in lavender when the
pair came back from their modest holiday and settled down to real life on
Allen's prosperous farm; and no word of Bertie Leon ever came to Mrs.
Golyer to trouble her joy. In her calm and busy life the very name faded
from her tranquil mind. These wholesome country hearts do not bleed long.
In that wide-awake country eyes are too useful to be wasted in weeping. My
dear Lothario Urban us, those peaches are very sound and delicious, but
they will not keep for ever. If you do not secure them to-day, they will
go to some one else, and in no case, as the Autocrat hath said with
authority, can you stand there "mellering 'em with your thumb."
There was no happier home in the county, and few finer farms. The good
sense and industry of Golyer and the practical helpfulness of his wife
found their full exercise in the care of his spreading fields and growing
orchards. The Warsaw merchants fought for his wheat, and his apples were
known in St. Louis. Mrs. Golyer, with that spice of romance which is
hidden away in every woman's heart, had taken a special fancy to the
seedling apple tree at whose planting she had so intimately assisted.
Allen shared in this, as in all her whims, and tended and nursed it like a
child. In time he gave up the care of his orchard to other hands, but he
reserved this seedling for his own especial coddling. He spaded and
mulched and pruned it, and guarded it in the winter from rodent rabbits
and in summer from terebrant grubs. It was not ungrateful. It grew a noble
tree, producing a rich and luscious fruit, with a deep scarlet satin coat,
and a flesh tinged as delicately as a pink seashell. The first peck of
apples was given to Susie with great ceremony, and the next year the first
bushel was carried to Colonel Blood, the Congressman. He was loud in his
admiration, as the autumn elections were coming on: "Great Scott, Golyer!
I'd rather give my name to a horticultooral triumph like that there than
be Senator."
"You've got your wish, then, colonel," said Golyer. "Me and my wife have
called that tree The Blood Seedling sence the day it was transplanted from
your pastur'."
It was the pride and envy of the neighborhood. Several neighbors asked for
scions and grafts, but could do nothing with them.
"Fact is," said old Silas Withe
|